The worst truth is that I’ve held onto the word “toddler” so long that truly, what I have in front of me is almost a full-blown boy.
He’s a preschooler.
He reads to himself and he’s learning his letters and he can count.
He has a favorite color and a favorite food and a favorite book.
He has friends he prefers to play with and one boy he calls his best friend but nobody beats the giraffe lovey, Hank.
He goes to time out when he tries to get rude with his momma, but it doesn’t happen much anymore because he knows his boundaries.
He’s old enough to recognize when Momma’s head is about to pop off and spin in circles. As my friend Speed likes to say, that kind of self-preservation is a developmental milestone.
And today, he put on his shoes all by himself for the first time. Without one ounce of help from his momma and he smiled so big and I wanted to scoop him up and rock him, just one more time.
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